


Now

by FiveStillAlive



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - Fandom
Genre: Arranged Marriage, First Time, Implied future Thor/Loki, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, could be considered cheating, cozy fireside makeouts, not for Loki and Fandral
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:13:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiveStillAlive/pseuds/FiveStillAlive
Summary: What was an arranged marriage, anyway? He hadn’t agreed to it. The only thing holding him to it was expectation and convention.And he did so dislike those.
Relationships: Fandral/Loki, Fandral/Loki (Marvel)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	Now

**Author's Note:**

> I saw [@dashing_frost](https://twitter.com/dashing_frost?s=21)’s art (<https://twitter.com/dashing_frost/status/1349330175088013316?s=21>) and it took over my brain and now look at me! Writing something other than Thorki!
> 
> I am... physically incapable of conceiving of a Loki not deeply entangled in Thor. This is as non-Thorki as it gets in this here brain.
> 
> —————
> 
> Kudos and comments greatly appreciated!
> 
> I’m on Twitter: [@FiveStillAlive1](https://twitter.com/FiveStillAlive1)
> 
> and occasionally on Tumblr: [RunnerFiveStillAlive](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/runnerfivestillalive)

Loki stared out into the dark woods. The fire was at his back, warming him. Behind him, Thor and his friends bantered and played together. It was warm and inviting, a happy camaraderie he’d be welcome to join. But it felt... distant. He stared into the darkness, the cold, feeling hypnotized.

It was a pleasant feeling, meditative. The woods were full of power, primal and deep. The contrast of warmth at his back and cold, dark night ahead… He felt detached from his own body, drifting slightly apart. He could feel the flows of magic underfoot and through the air, the wildness of possibilities in the endless woods. His heart raced, breathing in this endless stillness, this unbreakable-

A heavy blanket was flung over him, making him jerk back. His tea, forgotten in his hand, went clattering down, cup bouncing off the log he was sitting on. He nearly went backward off the log himself, but a steady hand caught him between the shoulders.

“You’ll catch your death, my prince!” Fandral’s cheery voice hit his ears, an instant before Loki oriented himself enough to catch a glimpse of his attacker-rescuer.

Ugh, his voice. Loki could never determine if the man was just overly friendly or making a joke at his expense. Or both! It drove him mad at times. And his face! His smile was just as bad, even glimpsed only for a moment between Loki getting his balance and getting tangled in the blanket again. It always made a flare of something like… like anxiety, but almost pleasant, burn in his middle.

“I am perfectly fine!” He growled the words, trying to detangle himself from the blanket, realizing as he did so that the blanket was a moving challenge, still being wrapped around him by his brother’s least intolerable friend.

“Of course! Far be it from me to suggest that a prince should not be sitting in the frozen woods at night in nothing but his day clothes!”

“You’re not even wearing long sleeves!” How big was this blanket?

“You’re right! And I’m freezing out here! Make room!”

The blanket was yanked again, there was a sudden addition of limbs into his personal space, and somehow, after much flailing and squirming, they both ended up encased in the blankets, and finally settled.

Fandral, looking perfectly comfortable, legs stretched out toward the fire, grinned at him. Loki, facing Fandral, legs curled up against his chest, back caught against the tension of the blanket, tried to regain his dignity by straightening his hair and giving the fop a long-suffering sigh.

“This blanket is the size of a tent and as heavy as a bear. I can’t believe you hauled it out here.”

Fandral was still smiling as if he’d won something. “Worth every step.”

“Yes, well, I hate to ruin your act of noble fealty, but I was keeping quite warm before. With my tea. Which has now mysteriously spilled.”

Fandral’s eyes widened, he held up one finger, then he ducked away - nearly toppling their tenuous blanket tent in the process - and reemerged with two full cups off tea, still steaming.

Knowing he’d been outmaneuvered, Loki surrendered with a snort of amusement, and accepted the tea.

Quiet settled again, a still peace, as they sipped their tea. Warmth soaked into Loki, slowly, and he felt himself relaxing with it. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d been! Across the fire, Thor and Volstagg were working each other up to louder and more improbable tales, boisterous and wild, but it seemed far away from their little sanctuary of warmth.

Finally, Loki surrendered to the comfort of the nest, and let his legs relax away from his chest a bit, even letting one straighten and drape over Fandral’s lap. Close quarters, and all.

Fandral was watching him, as intently as one might watch a fire.

Loki blushed, and looked away. “Thank you. You’re right, I was cold.”

“It is my duty to see to your well-being, as my prince.” Fandral said, softly. “And my future king.”

Loki’s shoulders stiffened, and he felt his jaw tighten, as he fixed his gaze even more firmly away from Fandral. He knew?

Three days ago, Loki had been summoned to a meeting with his parents, along with Thor. Thor had been courting a young woman with a bit too much vigor, it seemed. And it had been explained to them, then, that they had no need for courting.

That they were, in fact, arranged to wed.

Each other.

They… hadn’t really talked, since. Loki hadn’t really talked to anybody. Thor seemed to do nothing but talk, to anyone else, about anything else.

They both needed time to adjust, he supposed.

But he’d been told it wouldn’t be made general knowledge yet! Not until it was closer to time for them to marry! Years, maybe decades!

Then again, he supposed the warriors three knowing didn’t exactly qualify as general knowledge.

He took a steadying breath, realizing Fandral was still watching him. He tried to brush away his sudden tension with a soft scoff. “King consort, maybe. Anyone can see Thor’s going to be stuck with the hard job.” Of course golden, perfect, favorite Thor would get the throne.

“You don’t seem pleased.”

“I don’t think that’s going to matter.”

Fandral ducked down, putting his tea mug out of the way, then returned to their little blanket cave. Loki’s fingers tightened on his own, though little more than dregs remained.

“If you don’t mind me saying so, Loki, I’m… surprised. I thought you… were interested in Thor.”

“Perhaps.” Loki looked over the fire, through the smoke. Thor’s wide shoulders and long hair all moved with the energy of his dramatic tale. He seemed worlds away. A stranger. The distance was uncrossable, and the connection unobtainable. “But there’s quite a difference between wanting something and being forced into it.” Especially when the other party seems entirely uninterested. And…

“But you did want it?” Fandral’s voice was soft, entirely free of his usual teasing tone.

“Want what? To marry him?” A small, dry laugh escaped him. “I’ve never- I have no serious romantic experience; I certainly wasn’t thinking about marriage! And he’s not…”

He trailed off, but he could feel Fandral’s eyes, feel him waiting. Feel the heat of his skin, and the nearness of his body.

It seemed, in this secluded bubble of warmth, in these endless dark woods, that truth might be spoken. It seemed, with this distracted flirt focused so intently on his words, that truth might be heard. Loki took a slow breath, not able to look at Fandral. “He’s not the only one I’ve been interested in.”

He thought he heard a catch in Fandral’s breath. Thought he felt him lean closer. But he wasn’t certain. “Oh? There’s someone else?”

Gold and fire. Smoke and boasting. The dance of flame and Thor blurred together, as his eyes tried to see something farther away.

When he felt fingers on his leg, his head jerked around, looking at Fandral at last.

“You know, you’re not married yet. Not even close. If there’s someone else…” His fingers were moving. Running lightly up Loki’s thigh. Then dragging back down. Just a few inches, almost nothing, but it lit up Loki’s skin, shot up his spine. “Or even if you just want to get some experience… I don’t see any reason you can’t.”

“That… That is an excellent point.” He suddenly realized just how badly the news of his arrangement had thrown him off. He hadn’t even started thinking of ways out of it. He hadn’t even tried! He hadn’t even recognized the rather large and obvious loophole that was that one of the people in this arrangement was him, and he was the god of tricks!

What was an arranged marriage, anyway? He hadn’t agreed to it. The only thing holding him to it was expectation and convention.

And he did so dislike those.

And Fandral’s fingers on his leg were bolder, now. More of a whole hand, really. “I can hardly be expected to honor a marriage that hasn’t even happened yet.”

“I don’t see how you could!”

Loki cast a glance across the fire, checking that they were still being ignored. Then he oh-so-casually shrugged his end of the blanket higher, so the edge of it blocked more of the outside world. Giving the inside world more privacy. He smiled at Fandral, conspiratorially, and Fandral’s eyes widened, and he hurriedly did the same with his own end, almost closing them in completely. Then he leaned forward.

Oh, but his heart was racing. He’d played so very many tricks, but this was… this was personal, this was intimate! So very intimate. He was tingling all over, and he could feel himself grasping at the power he’d soaked in before, the power of the dark, still woods. He could feel himself drawing its untamable strength inward, warping it around his wants. His needs. Turning his heart’s racing into pounding, turning a reckless decision into a primal, brutal need. Rules had to be broken. Expectations had to be subverted.

And this man, this flirting, teasing, unbalancing man called to something more than just his need for trouble.

He let his leg not already draped in Fandral’s lap, but crooked between them, fall to one side, spreading his thighs. This forced Fandral’s hand to leave it’s place, but he settled it again on Loki’s newly offered inner thigh, and he was not shy about spreading his hand over the sensitive area.

“Maybe you…” His voice was soft, he felt breathless, heady. “could help me with that? It’s absolutely unhealthy for me to deny my godly nature.”

Fandral’s other hand abandoned the blanket, trusting its own weight to keep it in place, then slid around Loki’s hip. “Are you sure, my prince?” He smiled that infuriating, teasing smile. “You said there was someone you liked. Perhaps they should assist you with this?”

Loki growled, softly, but with something truly savage digging within him. “Kiss me, Fandral.”

And he did.

Soft at first, almost reverent, as if he was somehow under the impression that Loki might break. Then, as Loki opened under him, arched closer in demand, his hunger grew to meet him. Gods, yes, more! Loki had one hand tangled in his hair, at the base of his neck, and he didn’t think he would ever allow the kiss to end, until Fandral’s hand slid inward, and cupped him through his pants. He tore his mouth away with a gasp, overwhelmed, only to have Fandral’s mouth attack his newly exposed neck.

Oh gods…

Then Fandral’s breath was hot on his neck, tickling under his ear. “Thor is just across the fire.”

“He’s not about to start paying attention now!” Oh no, please don’t stop, this felt...

“His loss.”

Then Fandral’s lips were on him again, his hands were everywhere, and Loki tried to keep up, but it was all he could do to keep upright, to cling to Fandral, needing him to stay there, stay solid, to not disappear with a wink and a blown kiss. “Fan- Ah!”

Fandral’s hand between his legs was working with intent now, somehow seeming to know exactly what it was doing even through his clothing. “Oh, my prince, you are lovely.” He dropped kisses up his neck. His other hand was sliding up his back, pushing his shirt away. “When you said you lack romantic experience…”

Loki, panting, tried to get his tongue under control. “I- I’ve done - ah! - some things!” He’d really meant relationship experience, not physical experience, but… now that Fandral mentioned it…

“Have you let anyone see you like this? You’re absolutely beautiful, my prince.”

“I- You can barely see me!” The light from the fire was barely sneaking through the gaps in their blanket cave.

“I see you.” Then he gave into Loki’s grip on his hair, and let himself be dragged in for more.

Oh gods! He tried to keep still, tried not to thrash and shove himself closer, tried to clutch the edges of the blanket together - there was surely some level of obviousness that would give their game away, and he didn’t want it to end - but that left him nearly helpless, nearly frozen, a receptor to Fandral’s attentions and-

And oh he paid such attentions.

“F- ah! Fandral please!”

“My prince.” Fandral breathed the word, worshipful against his skin, just as the heel of his hand pressed inward, his fingers pushed firmly downward, and his teeth scraped against Loki’s outstretched neck, offering, threatening a mark.

Loki came.

He couldn’t possibly not have,

He was quiet, only a gasp, a full body, mind-arcing shudder, and then his one free hand was clutching at Fandral’s shoulder, as he panted in his arms.

As his head slowly cleared, he realized he was still making faint, weak whimpering noises, as Fandral’s fingers continued to tease so very, very lightly over the now-messy bulge in his pants.

“Well? Was that sufficiently godly, my prince?” He sounded pleased with himself, and Loki couldn’t even be annoyed at his smugness.

“I think…” Ah, yes, words. He remembered those. “to be properly troublesome, I would need to return the favor.”

Fandral brushed a kiss right under his ear, and Loki felt his words against his skin. “Next time.”

Loki took in a sharp breath, suddenly flashing on an image of himself of his knees, sucking this warrior’s cock.

Oh yes.

Fandral was a flirt, a tease, with a new lover twice a week. Loki could never trust him to stay. Could never have trusted him with his heart, when he’d thought his future was his own.

But it wasn’t.

And perhaps now… a lover for now was all he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> This can only end in Loki being crushed between those two in a very beefy sandwich.


End file.
